


I Like The Way You Look In My Sheets

by chillontheside



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 10:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chillontheside/pseuds/chillontheside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes casual sex leads to not so casual consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Like The Way You Look In My Sheets

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be a drabble (for a prompt "midnight") but then it grew into this.
> 
> The title is from a Semi Precious Weapons' song "Aviation High", it really reflects the mood of the story.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

I Like The Way You Look In My Sheets

 

Will sort of meets Chris long before _anything_ between them happens. 

Once, at a party, Will sees him, from afar, fanboys over the Glee fact of all of this, and goes back to the conversation he's been having. Besides, he doesn't like the show as much as he used, and soon he forgets about seeing Kurt Hummel like he forgets about other famous or semi-famous people he occasionally sees. 

But he distinctly remembers the first time they talk, not yet introduced, but having heard about each other from mutual friends.

It’s someone's kitchen, midnight; party's raging outside, the house is empty, save for couples sneaking into the rooms upstairs. Chris is one of those. Will doesn't recall seeing him outside, at the pool or in the backyard, but he must have been there, at least for a while, to pick up one of Sam's gymnast friends.

They are sipping water, shirts rumpled, obvious sex hair and satisfied smirks on their faces. Will walks in, and they stop eating each other with their eyes and stare at him. Jon frowns, trying to put a face to a name, and Chris has suspicion written all over his face.

Will halts awkwardly at the door, not knowing what to do, but then Jon finally recognizes him and lays a soothing hand on Chris' arm. "It's Will, Ashley knows him."

Chris visibly relaxes and gives him a tiny smile and a detached formal cliche, "Nice to meet you, I'm Chris."

"You, too," says Will and grins back. "I'm just here for something non-alcoholic."

Chris moves from the fridge, even though it’s a couple of feet away. "There is only water, I have no idea where they keep soda -" he trails off and shrugs.

Jon clears his throat and puts his glass on the table. "Hey, I'm gonna go to the bathroom and then, see ya back there?" he raises an eyebrow at Chris suggestively and at the same time quizzically, like he’s not so sure that Chris will still be going with him.

Will walks towards the fridge, deliberately avoiding looking at the men.

"Yeah, in a few," and from the corner of his eye, Will notices Chris’ small smile aimed at Jon, and it obviously promises lots of _very_ good things because the man skips out of kitchen in a hurry.

"You know how to make 'em happy," remarks Will jokingly as he turns around and opens a plastic bottle.

"Excuse me?" asks incredulously Chris, with a glare that can only be described as bitchy, which he focuses on Will.

"Um - I meant, damn. Sorry, that was inappropriate," he smiles apologetically, silently cursing himself for being an idiot. 

After staring at him icily for a moment, Chris shakes his head.

"Whatever," and in one gulp he finishes his glass.

Will pursues his lips and tries to think of something less inappropriate to say since it’s becoming a little too awkward. But Chris just grabs Jon’s glass and walks over to the sink. The sound of water gushing out of the tap replaces the silence, and Will sighs.

Suddenly, Chris voice is heard over the water and faint noises from the party, “Will, right? Can you grab me a bottle from the fridge, please?”

Will nods, eager to busy himself with something. He hands it to Chris with an encouraging smile he can’t keep off his face. He can’t stop wondering if Ashley knows that her boy is hooking up with Jon.

When Chris is almost out of the kitchen, Will blurts out, "Don't forget to rehydrate."

Chris glares at him again, this time with a mix of disgust and embarrassment, before leaving without a word. 

“Shit,” mutters Will, hoping that he won’t have to face Chris again tonight.

*

Next time he sees Chris is at a small get-together at Ashley’s. It's small and intimate, closest friends only, and he's properly introduced to Chris by people who matter to both of them. It's nice, they shake hands and Chris actually makes it look as if it’s the first time they meet. Will is glad because, obviously, his first impression sucked, and he wouldn’t mind making a new one. 

It’s still weird, pretending, and he waits for a chance to be left alone with Chris to clear it up. And sometime after midnight they do end up alone in the kitchen, everyone in the living room, and they linger awkwardly, at opposite sides of the table, until Chris breathes out loudly and starts, "Um, Will, listen - "

Will nods, indicating that he does, glad that he doesn’t have to be the first to start, and Chris continues, "That night, a couple of weeks ago, when I was with Jon," he lowers his voice to a whisper, glancing around worriedly, and Will has to lean in to hear him, "sorry for being so bitc - unfriendly, you know, at _that_ party. I try to stay indoors, like in bedrooms - when I - um, just, and,” he sighs helplessly, stops and finally carries on unsurely, “it sounds kinda dumb, but that's how I keep things like that quiet, and -"

"Man, if you think I'm gonna tell anyone, don't worry. I won't tell a soul,” interrupts him Will. But seeing Chris' questioning look, he adds, "not even Ashley."

"Oh thank God," mutters Chris, finally giving him an open unrestrained smile. "I was really worried. Ashley might kill me if she knew I slept with someone from your group, she already says that everyone there has slept with every-," Chris stops and, embarrassed, averts his eyes.

Will laughs, "Hey, it's alright and probably true."

Chris’ shoulders relax and he chuckles, "Okay. Let's get back to them, or they'll think we're fucking, too," he says and starts for the living room.

Eyes drawn to Chris' ass in the tight pants, Will suddenly thinks that he won't be particularly averse to the idea.

*

Chris can't say that he gets _physically_ attracted to Will when he first lays eyes on him. Initially, he's annoyed with him, but Will is quickly forgotten, as he is fucking Jon against the wall in someone's guest bedroom (at least he hopes it's not the owner’s bedroom).

But then Will springs up at Ashley's party (apparently they’re _really good friends_ ) and he has to apologize, and he also has to make sure that Will doesn't tell anyone about his thing with Jon. God, he shouldn’t have gone downstairs with Jon. Granted, they couldn't separate long enough to breathe but he should be more careful from now on.

He notices, _really_ notices Will when he drives Ashley to a beach party and, contrary to his plans, stays there for a while. Will jumps up to him and immediately draws him into the conversation. Chris tries to participate, to focus his eyes elsewhere, he really does, but all he can do is stare. Openly.

Will is hot. Shame on Chris’ shallowness for realizing it only when Will is half-naked in front of him. But -

His attempts to avoid looking at Will are futile; and he’s sure that right now anyone would see clearly what he’s thinking. He makes up an excuse and gets up to leave, only to be followed by Will who says that he will walk him to the car.

Chris burns red as Will strolls alongside him, but when they reach the parking lot, he has to face Will, and he turns around.

Will gives him one of his silly smiles that make him look ten years younger, and says, "It was good to see ya!" before lunging forward to hug Chris.

Chris is shocked but he pats Will's shirtless back awkwardly, trying not to think that the only thing between between them is his shirt, and says feebly, "Yeah, see you soon."

And Will strides away, hips swaying.

*

"So, Chris, is there anyone at this party you'd wanna fuck?"

Chris shoots Will and his bluntness an annoyed glare. "I don't do it _that_ often."

"Well, you should,” with feigned innocence Will counters Chris’ death look. “But, hypothetically, is there anyone you would consider worthy of your - you know, time?"

Chris is still staring at him, thinking "I will strangle you if you don't stop" and he hopes it comes across shining and clear. But still, he nods, barely. There is _definitely_ someone Chris wouldn't mind spending a couple of hours with, on a comfortable horizontal surface, and that someone is currently irritating the hell out of him.

For good measure, he glares at Will once again, but noticing that he’s looking into the opposite direction, Chris lets his eyes skip down his body appreciatively, and he has to make an effort to close them and look away because he can’t let Will catch him staring _again_.

*

"We should start hanging out outside these group gatherings," whispers Will in his ear, appearing out of nowhere and squeezing himself into the tiniest space between Chris and an arm of the couch. 

Chris is tipsy, and he feels happy and at ease. Will's body is warm and solid next to him; there is something intimate in the way their thighs are slotted together, no space between them at all.

He turns his head to see Will more clearly, and he doesn’t avert his eyes, letting them sweep over him, and he leans in to whisper right into Will’s ear, "Yeah, we should."

Will gives him a dazzling smile with the lips that are too close. "Give me your phone."

Chris stretches his legs and, fighting the tightness of his pockets, fishes out his phone and hands it to Will.

Who types in his number and dials.

It’s all really fuzzy to Chris, but he doesn’t want Will to leave. Yet he doesn’t say anything, and after giving Chris’ phone back to him, Will skips away with a pat on his knee. He stares at the crowd where Will has disappeared to and he _thinks_ he sees Will hugging someone and fist bumping but he isn’t sure.

*

At each party or barbeque (which Chris has started to steadily grace with his presence) Will’s eyes drift to Chris many times: he learns the way Chris smile, tilts his head, drinks and laughs, most of the time discreetly, chuckling, but rarely he throws his head back and lets it all out, and Will likes catching moments like this.

It’s a bit creepy, and Chris catches his gaze one time and raises an eyebrow in question. Will simply shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, turning away, and this is when a tentative plan starts forming in his head.

They circle each other, getting closer, then apart, but never alone, never together. Someone else stands between them, preventing the backs of their hands from accidentally brushing against each other, or Will has to hold a drink for Cam, or help with the barbeque, or else... By the end of one night, Will catches _Chris_ staring back at him.

Chris doesn't acknowledge that he's been caught. He averts his gaze as if nothing's going on and starts talking with one of his friends, a guy who came here with him and Ashley. He's handsome, if a bit young, but there is something sexy about it, something that might attract Chris, probably?

Will refuses to think about it. He gets mildly drunk and goes home alone, feeling Chris' lingering goodbye gaze on him.

He _has_ a plan.

*

As it turns out, his plan has been set in motion even before Will is up.

The morning brings a bit of a headache and a text from Chris. "You promised a scary movie night. How does tonight sound?"

"Great. There’s gonna be screaming."

Will realizes the implication only after he receives a reply from Chris, seconds later. "I’m counting on that ;-) "

Grinning, Will texts him his address.

 

*

Chris shows up in tight jeans and a ridiculous hat. Will gestures at it and asks cheekily, "What's this?"

Chris scowls and attempts to nudge Will out of the way, "It's a hat."

"Totally," teases Will, still standing in the doorway and openly checking out Chris. 

When he finally moves, Chris struts past him and mutters, under his breath, "Fuck you."

"You wish," retorts Will, and he can see the tips of Chris’ ears redden.

 

Chris demands food right after The Grudge, saying "I need moral compensation for that,” and lightly elbows Will into the side to make him get up from the couch.

Will’s hand lingers on Chris’ knee after gently tapping it. Finally, he gets up to retrieve a stack of menus. 

"The scary night was your idea," he yells from the kitchen.

"And you're an enabler," replies Chris loudly.

Will’s laugh is heard in the living room.

 

They unbuckle each other’s belts when the time for the second movie comes. Dirty plastic plates fall on the floor from where they’ve been carelessly placed on the couch. Their hands move clumsily, untucking, tugging, unbuttoning and unzipping. 

Sitting on Will’s lap, Chris latches onto his neck, trailing kisses and sucking, and whispering hotly in Will's ear, "I wanted to do that last night but there were too many people around. And you were -," a bite, "always talking," a lick into the shell of Will's ear, "with lots of people, so hot, so busy -"

"You are the one talking right now," responds Will, puts his arms around Chris' bare waste and after flipping them over, connects their mouths again. Chris reacts with all he has, trying to show Will that he's still the one in charge even though he's the one on his back, but it's hard because every move of Will's tongue inside his mouth ignites something deep inside of Chris, and his cock throbs for attention.

He shifts, sliding more fully underneath Will. He feels Will's hardness just an inch from his own and he wriggles to move even closer. But Will just ruts against him slightly before moving away and holding down Chris’ hips. "Tonight is all about you, okay?"

Chris stares into still not very familiar set of brown eyes, and he can’t read them yet. He doesn't know what Will wants to do, what he intends to do, but he trusts him because Will is a nice guy, it’s one of the things he’s very sure and aware of. Chris nods.

Will smiles winningly and leans down, their chests touching, and murmurs against Chris' cheek, "Bedroom?"

"It's nice enough here,” curtly answers Chris. He doesn’t like other people’s bedrooms and he doesn’t like strangers in his own. If it’s all about him, he can choose the most comfortable location - 

Will chuckles, deep and rough, and Chris feels the sound vibrate through Will's chest, pressed to his. Chris gets a feeling that his answer was expected, and there was no actual intention of moving from this couch.

They stay like this, letting breathing press their chests together until Chris is impatient with desire. He says roughly, "Gonna do something about that?" and lifts his hips, purposefully rubbing against Will.

And Chris _always_ gets what he wants.

Ten minutes later he is on his fours, completely naked, face down into the arm of the couch, and Will has his tongue _almost_ inside of him. He laps around his hole, kissing, sucking, but not breaching, and Chris whines, groping behind him to find Will's head and guide him just to the right place.

Will laughs and swats at his hand. "Stop that, or I'll stop," he says, breath ghosting against his hole for a moment, and finally, _finally_ he pushes inside.

"No-no-no!" Wantonly and needily, Chris moans out his delayed reaction. 

Will slides his tongue out, excruciatingly slow, and asks, his tone innocent, "You want me to stop?"

"No! Will - fuck- don't stop," blabbers Chris and thrusts his ass higher.

"Mhm, is is really what you want?" teases Will and licks over his perineum.

"Yes!" hisses Chris and tries to open his thighs wider, but Will holds them in place.

"Don't move," and it's the last thing he says before his tongue is once again thrusting inside.

Chris writhes and moans, demanding more, and he's never been so eager to get fucked. His mind is foggy with nearing explosion of pleasure and his dick aches for some friction, but Will just goes on and on until Chris can't think anymore. He feels Will’s hand letting go of his ass cheek but he doesn't realize what it means until he feels a finger sliding in, instead of a tongue.

Its slide is slow and measured, and Chris manages to get out, "Damn - Will, faster," when another finger joins the first. After Chris starts to get impatient again, cursing and groaning, Will adds the third finger as his other hand starts moving, slides down around him, massaging and pressing, and Chris buckles, trying to get this hand on his cock.

Will pulls out his fingers and leans over Chris, whispering in his ear, "Be patient," and suddenly wraps his hand around Chris' dick as his fingers plunge back inside, now moving in time with Will's fast strokes. 

Will's thrusting between his thighs, and he feels enveloped, surrounded, in the best way, and as Will curves his fingers just right, he comes.

It's all a blur of white hot pleasure and when he is back to himself, he feels Will shuddering above him, his come sliding over his legs. His face is just above Chris’s and he turns his head to look at him. Eyes closed, mouth open, short, shuddering breaths come out before he finally slumps down beside Chris.

He reaches one still trembling hand and lifts the hair away from Will’s forehead. The other man smiles weakly, and Chris returns it, even though Will's eyes are still shut. He kisses his lips lightly and reaches for Will's shirt. He uses it to wipe off the come (he can’t use his own, he still has to go home and he can't do it shirtless, obviously).

Will's breath evens out as Chris settles down tiredly. He looks at him, sleepy, hair tousled, small smile still on his lips, and, feeling at ease, drifts off himself.

*

Chris realizes that it's all been meticulously planned by Will only after the third time they sleep with each other. He is on his way home from Will's apartment and he understands, finally, the game Will's been playing. Chris has been dancing straight into his hands, without knowing it for what it really was.

Which explains why Will hasn’t yet said anything. He's establishing the rules and waiting for Chris to catch up. 

Well, now that Chris knows, he plans to set up a few rules of his own.

First, he cancels on Will a few times. This is simply to prove the point: he jerks off in the shower, thinking about Will, but the man doesn’t have to know about it. Then, he ignores a couple of his texts. And finally, he is the one who _arranges_ the meeting. He walks into Will's apartment confident and in control, intent on _talking it all over_ before getting to the fucking.

It doesn’t work out that way though.

Will is on him the second the door shuts, and from there their only path is to the bedroom. But Chris doesn’t forget his initial intentions and he shifts them a little, shifts the balance, takes Will's hand himself and pushes him on the bed.

He can see it in Will’s eyes: he understands that Chris has finally caught on, he’s not blindly following anymore. And Will is most responsive, pliant and giving. This night Chris is the one whose dick is inside Will, and it’s a glorious feeling and he _almost_ regrets ignoring Will for a week.

They are still in bed, recovering, when Chris speaks up, rushing to be the first to do so.

"Friends with benefits, huh?"

Will's startled, his eyes having been half-closed, but then he grins roguishly at him, "One of my best ideas, certainly."

"Should have informed me, y’know," Chris's voice is taut and he tries to keep his expression solemn, but Will's widest possible smile and mischievous glint in his eyes make it impossible. He cracks up and chuckles.

"I relied on you being smart and figuring it all out yourself," teases Will, poking a finger at Chris.

"And I did."

"Yeah, you did. Now, stop talking and just lay back down," he says and puts one arm around Chris's waist and starts tugging him down. With a laugh Chris slides down the bed and ends up right in Will's embrace.

Will wiggles his eyebrows and whispers hotly, "Round two so that I can still feel you tomorrow?"

Chris tugs at Will's hair to lift his head for a better angle and, instead of answering, kisses him roughly.

*

The arrangement turns out to be most convenient. But Chris still wants to talk, wants to define their “relationship”. So, one fine evening, after they've spent their Saturday fucking away the week, Chris finally asks, "When did you decide on this benefits thing?"

Will turns around from where he's been cooking something that smells great and regards Chris suspiciously, "Why do you ask?"

Chris shrugs and responds, "Well, for once, Ashley kind of introduced you to me as a hopeless romantic, and here you are, doing casual sex."

Will sighs and his back sags. He puts a spoon down and fully turns to peer at Chris, starting, "Okay, so the thing is - and that might be a bit of oversharing for that benefits thing but you asked -" he licks his lips and continues, "so, that’s essentially how my thought process went: you’re hot, I’m not so bad myself ...”

Chris cocks his head to the side and says, “True.”

“... And if we hook up it’s pretty convenient. You,” and Will gestures at Chris, “don't have to bother to look for someone to hook up with, and the risk of picking up a wrong person who's not gonna be discreet about it becomes non-existent."

Chris nods, understanding, "It's good that you saw me with Jon, after all."

"Yeah, ‘cause I would have never guessed that you're the type who does one night stands."

"I'm full of surprises."

"Oh, I know that now," replies Will darkly, eyes shining.

"But - what about you?” Chris steers him back on the track, “How does this arrangement fit into _your_ world view?"

Will grimaces, "Since you mentioned that romantic thing - well, I’ve been doing a lot of figuring out lately, and since none of my relationships in the past couple of years worked out, and I thought it’s high time I grew out of this stupid idea of soulmates and love, and started having some fun," he shrugs without looking at Chris and goes back to mixing at the stove.

Chris studies him intently for a moment. But it seems like it’s as good as true. And he thinks that this is where they are the same - Will is growing out of it and Chris hasn't yet grown into it, and it's perfect.

They don't speak any more until the food is ready. When the plates are set and Will is putting a stew that smells deliciously into his, Chris finally asks something he's been wondering about for a while.

"Why did you choose _me_?"

"Huh?"

"For this arrangement?" clarifies Chris.

"Oh, I already told you - you're hot, and it’s convenient," replies Will and stuffs his mouth.

"I'm not the hottest man in your vicinity."

"But you're one of the hottest," winks Will, chewing. But seeing Chris’ unwaning attention and still waiting for an answer, he adds, "Okay, okay. Well, you said yourself that in my group everyone's fucked everyone, and I also dated some of them, and I don't want to fall back into the old habits. You seemed like a reasonable choice, someone I know, but also someone from the side."

Chris contemplates this information. Finally, he nods.

"So, now, can you stop asking questions and we get onto the food so I can fuck you again tonight before you have to go home?"

*

Time proves that their agreement is definitely mutually beneficial. Chris has one less part of his life to worry about, and it's so easy, to simply give Will a call. He is getting used to it, and after carefully analyzing it, he comes to the conclusion that it's not hazardous in any way, it’s not like he’ll get emotionally attached to Will or vice versa. Chris controls his feelings and it’s kind of hard to imagine that Will would somehow be interested in him in a serious, commitment-like way. Besides, Chris himself doesn’t plan on settling down anytime soon.

No one suspects anything. They rarely leave Will's apartment, if they do, it's usually late at night, and no one in Ventura seems to care. He has never even seen any of Will's neighbours and when he asks if they complain about _noises_ , Will shrugs and sheepishly smiles. _They're used to it_.

Chris also knows, for some reason, that Will hasn't said anything about him to any of his friends. They are a closely-guarded secret. Chris wonders briefly if it's bad that Will has to be silent about it, since he's a very outgoing and open man, and he feels guilty, but then he reminds himself that Will is the one who got the idea in the first place.

The only thing they have to be careful about is parties. They have to not look at each other as if they’ve seen each other naked. There is something thrilling and dangerous about consciously stopping himself from lingering or touching.

At one of the parties where Ashley drags him to, to get him drunk, relaxed, just before the book tour, Will is not present. Chris is disappointed; he was looking forward to their game of _not_ staring, not allowing dark knowing looks fly between them.

But he’s still curious, and once he finds himself standing just beside Sam, he casually, amidst the conversation, drops a question, "Will's not here tonight, right?"

Sam nods and responds nonchalantly, "Yeah, he had to finish some work for tomorrow, apparently. Big time of the year, or something. He's been swamped lately."

Chris has gotten the answer he wanted, and he only wonders if Will is available tomorrow, with all the work he apparently has to do. He wonders if they should talk about it, because now they are kind of friends and do have a lot in common. He stops himself before he lets this curiosity get too far. 

They shouldn’t talk about it because it’s not what they do.

*

He's not as smooth as he thinks he is though.

"Fess up, Colfer," demands Ashley when they meet up for drinks. "I know you're shacking up with someone."

"What? That's ridiculous," he exclaims with feigned indignation, a little too quickly, and to hide his blush he takes a sip of his strawberry margarita.

Ashley glares at him, "I can see it all over your face, and your _ass_ , Colfer."

He looks aside and bites his lip. He can't tell her; he isn’t in the mood for a lecture and it's not simply _his_ secret anyways. He knows Will won’t appreciate him telling Ashley.

"Fine, okay," concedes Ashley after staring at him unblinkingly for a good while in an attempt to intimidate, "you don't want to talk about it, okay. But - just, be careful, alright?" and her eyes are still trained on him, even though her voice has gone soft.

"I'm always careful," replies Chris, irritated.

"Just - I hope you know what you're doing," says Ashley hesitantly, her eyes boring into him, scrutinizing, waiting for him to crack up.

"I know what I'm doing," snaps Chris.

Ashley smiles wryly and scrunches her nose, "Okay, okay, calm down. You can talk to me, though, whenever you want."

Chris sighs, defeated, and looks at her gratefully, "Yeah, I know."

*

Book tour gets in a way of good sex. They can't make their schedules work, however hard they try. When they finally meet, Chris is already back to filming, so automatically there’s less time and more urgency. 

They are on each other the moment Chris steps inside ( _this has become a tradition, almost_ ).Shirts get ripped, buttons fly, and then they're naked in Will's hallway, and Chris lands on his knees almost instantly. When Will's still panting after having come in Chris’ mouth,, Chris stands up to crowd against him, still leaning on the door, and whispers right into Will’s half-opened mouth, "Missed me?"

"You have no idea," murmurs Will as he gathers his strength and lifts Chris, wrapping his legs around himself. Chris gasps as his still hard cock comes in contact with Will's muscled stomach.

Will carries him to the bedroom because a comfortable surface is always better after a long time apart, yet instead of fucking all night they actually fall asleep after the first round.

*

Now that the summer is over, they have to develop a rhythm, taking into account Chris' insanely early call times and Will's demanding work. They set up a schedule they make an effort to stick to. Monday and Thursday, if they don't meet on weekends; otherwise, it’s Tuesday and Friday. It's sort of a routine and probably too frequent but at this point Chris doesn’t care. 

It goes on quite well until the end of September when Will can't make it at all, except for Sunday. Chris is restless, feeling dissatisfied and snarling at everyone until even people at work start to notice and comment on his unusual behaviour. 

When, _finally_ , Sunday arrives, and Chris gets meticulous and doesn't stop until he's fucked away this awful orgasm-less and Will-less week he's had. They lounge in bed afterwards, but they don’t want to go to sleep just yet.

"Work's been busy, huh?" tries Chris.

Will rolls his eyes and sighs heavily, "Yeah, I'm actually thinking of quitting."

Chris furrows his eyebrows, "I thought - assumed you liked it."

"I do, but - well, I’m almost 30, it's time for some changes. It’s cool but it’s not what I want to do _all_ my life.”

Chris tenses, and his mind starts racing. That's why he avoids talking career with the men he sleeps with - he's afraid they'll assume that he will help them and introduce to the right people - 

"Whatever though. I've been working all week, don't wanna think about it no more," says Will, yawning and reaching for a laptop. "TV before going to sleep? I've got your Real Housewives. I can't believe you hooked me up on this shit."

Chris lets out a laugh, feeling silly for thinking that Will is one of those men who would use him to further their own careers. "But it's some really delightful and hilarious shit," he says and reaches for a pair of his glasses that somehow have found their way into Will’s apartment and onto his bedside table.

Will snorts and, after setting a laptop on the blanket, he opens his arms. Chris immediately settles down in them to nestle against Will's familiar body, and focuses on the screen.

*

Will trudges behind Chris, eyes wide, taking in all around him. "Your house is so - you," he ends up saying.

Chris halts and turns around, furrowing his eyebrows. Will's eyes are all around the living room, studying, marvelling, and Chris is shocked to realize that Will’s never been in his house before. He's known him for half a year, he's been fucking him for four months but he's never had Will over. He quickly turns back, so that Will won't notice his flustered look, and continues on to the bedroom.

He walks quickly, Will's footsteps behind him, and he yearns to show Will the house, to give a proper tour, talking about every small corner, but they are here to pick up a few of Chris' things for a weekend and go back to Will's place.

When they enter the bedroom, Brian jumps down from the bed, startled and sleepy, and meows at them. Chris scratches behind his ears and goes up to his closet, occasionally peeking at Will.

The man stands by the bed, Brian is in front of him, staring, judging, assessing. Will smiles and crouches. Brian pads up to him slowly and warily. Chris has to stop looking to get a shirt he wants but when he turns around Will’s petting Brian, who’s ...purring.

Chris lets out a laugh and says, "He likes you."

"Cats like me because I don't smell like other cats," jokes Will.

Chris throws another shirt into his bag and whirls around to get some underwear.

Will stands up, and with a wag of his tail Brian pads to the bed and jumps on it, settling in and watching the man in anticipation.

Will doesn’t follow him: he's careful not to touch anything, he just looks around, at the bed, at the identical nightstands, at Chris' desk... Chris usually likes it when people are so considerate of his personal space, but with Will - 

He wants him to feel at home here, he wants to see him in his bed and in his kitchen in the morning, he wants him to greet Brian every time he comes here, with a familiarity that not many people are allowed to have.

As Chris puts his bag down and struts forward, Will squints at him questioningly. His arms fall down to his sides as Chris crowds at him, eyes dark and intent.

Will understands, for some marvellous reason he _always_ does, and he snakes his arms around Chris' waist, and pulls him down, sitting down on the bed. Chris straddles him, body on body, pressing down, and breathing heavily into Will's mouth. They kiss, soaring deep, tongues dancing together, and Will's hands slide down to cup his ass to bring him even closer.

They make out, hands wandering but not undressing, until a loud meow breaks them away. Brian looks at them from beside the door, wags his tail one more time, and exits after pointedly glaring at them.

Chris leans his forehead against Will's and laughs softly.

"Your cat is a voyeur."

"No, he's not. He just meowed to say that he’s leaving. "

"He watched us make-out for good ten minutes."

"Well, he didn’t stay for what’s going to follow, my cat is smart," huffs Chris with feigned indignation.

Will lays a gentle kiss on the skin under his ear and then, suddenly, leans back down on the bed, flips them over and tucks Chris under him.

"So..."

"Hi," breathes out Chris, looking up at Will and admiring his face. Chris doesn't think about anything but Will, Will, Will - and when he starts trailing kisses all over Chris' neck and his hand palms Chris' cock through his jeans, he fully relaxes, and it doesn’t matter anymore in whose bed they are.

 

He does end up showing Will the house, but later, much later. It's after midnight, and chuckling, half-naked, they stroll through the house, seeing room after room, exchanging soft smiling kisses.

They feed each other pieces of left-over lasagna, sprawled on the couch, TV on mute. Chris falls asleep there, in Will's arms. Early in the morning they wake up, backs hurting, and Chris softly tugs Will to the bedroom. There they curl up under the blankets and sleep until the afternoon.

*

It's not the first time Will has a friend with benefits. But it’s certainly the first time Will gets seeing-red, furious jealous: he should have predicted that the feeling would escalate once they’d be more involved but it never crossed his mind.

The right thing to do would be to end it all, at once; they rarely hang out with the same people, it’d be easy. But the thought of never seeing Chris again hurts. He considers it, mulls over it for a week until he realizes it’s already too late to take a step back. He's bottom-of-the-ocean deep in this mess, thinks Will, watching Chris flirt with a man.

Something tenses inside of him when he sees Chris’ sultry and tipsy smile aimed at the guy. Will wants to drag Chris away from him, in front of all these people, to grope him in a secluded corner, to hold him, to kiss him until his lips are red and swollen, and it would be so obvious that he’s just been kissed - 

It’s really stupid since Will knows that by the end of the night he is going to get a text saying at whose place they are meeting tonight.

With an effort, he closes his eyes and takes calming deep breaths. Will focuses on getting through the night without getting hammered or stealing Chris away from the party to make out in the kitchen. 

*

Seeing Will almost naked in the midst of other men in various stages of undress has a strange effect on Chris. He sees one photo, then another one a couple of hours later, and he wants to rip the hands looped around Will’s waist away and get him into _his_ bed. 

He closes the tab and leans back on the uncomfortable chair. People are buzzing around, adjusting lights, moving furniture, Lea is happily chatting on the phone a few feet away, and only just now does he tune into his surroundings.

He treats it as if he has a double life. One is embodied by weird hours, lights, award shows and publicity, and another one, behind closed doors of Will’s apartment or his house, is a life full of sensation and intimacy he hasn’t known before. 

Sometimes in his mind the two lives get confused, and he catches himself thinking that his reality is the latter: when all he can feel, smell and see is Will. It doesn’t always mean sex, it’s this feeling that can hit him when they are in bed, just watching shows, or when clad in only boxers they are eating cold leftovers in the kitchen in the middle of the night. 

Chris slides off the chair and heads outside. He saw Dean slip out to get some fresh air (as fresh it could be in LA) when the change of lights was announced, and Chris knows he can take his mind off Will with a chat.

He talks with Dean about banal, mundane things like what they had for breakfast this morning or what they’re going to go as for Halloween. Chris revels in the opportunity to dive back into this world, but the moment he closes his eyes, Will is still there, hot in all his half-naked glory, surrounded by other, equally hot men.

Chris texts him after dinner, something silly and meaningless, and he hopes that if Will does end up hooking up with someone from the party, his text will interrupt them. 

He goes to bed, vindictive and spiteful, at the same time wanting nothing more than to feel Will’s arms around him.

Will texts back in the afternoon, in a string of words that take Chris a while to get through. He looks for an implication, a slip that would confirm the conclusion of last night, 

"Hey, sorry for not answering last night. Halloweening already, had nowhere to put a phone in, yeah, my costume was so hot. Wanna meet up tonight?" 

But it is a right amount of usual cheesy, no hints to what _exactly_ he was doing last night. Chris is tempted to pretend that he hasn’t spent the morning pacing his living room, unable to concentrate on anything but Will and the man in whose arms he could be lying in right now. But it’s not that easy.

He’s got to maintain the balance, to keep the two lives separate to make this arrangement work. It’s just lately the boundaries have been blurring, and Chris gets this vague feeling that something is different now and he’s scared. He decides to take this weekend to re-figure it all out.

Will replies with a sad smile, and tentative plans for the next week.

*

Will is bummed he won't be seeing Chris today but then he gets a text from Ashley inviting him out, and he enthusiastically agrees. He still has a few days before he hits 30, and nothing sounds better than partying two nights in a row.

*

Chris is getting ready for a party, when he gets Ashley’s text, saying that she’s invited Will.

Apprehension takes over, and he’s still nervous when they arrive. But Chris is a great actor. He nods at Will, distant as if he doesn't know him very well and doesn’t care. Ashley watches them intensely from the corner of her eye, and suddenly he understands why Will is here with them. 

She’s worked out something, and she’s checking if she’s right. Well, she is, but Chris is not about to let her know that.

Party is a blast even though he has to be careful. They don't interact much, mostly through Ashley, but she is always watching, and when she goes across the room to greet a friend, Chris sighs, relieved, and turns to Will, whose eyes are still trained on Ashley. 

Music is loud, the beat is strong, and it’s perfectly justified to sidle up to Will to talk to him. "You’re staying at my place, right? Couch?"

Will nods with a sly smile, “Yeah, _couch_.”

Chris throws him a knowing dark look he’s perfected, and Will simply stares back at him, still close, his breath ghosting over Chris’ ear. He smells like mint and alcohol, with a faint scent of his familiar cologne, and it seems like it’s been such a long time since he’s been with him.

“Hey, boys, you ready to hit another party?” Ashley is back with a bang, and for the sake of conspiration Chris has to tear his eyes away from Will’s.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

*

That night they fall asleep kissing. Chris' leg is wedged between Will's, and they're lazily rutting against each other, but exhaustion takes over and they are out of it before they can move onto more sexually-charged things.

Chris wakes up at dawn, having to pee. He should kick Will out of his bed, make him go downstair to sleep on the couch where the pile of a pillow and a blanket is still neatly laid out, but the air is cold, and all he wants is to slip back into Will's arms and go back to sleep, secrecy be damned.

He does just that, quietly slides back and Will's arms are around him in the instant and he nuzzles into his neck, still asleep Chris is awake for a couple more minutes until he is dozing off, warm and content.

In the morning he's the last one up, Will's side of the bed has cooled off and he trudges down.

Will sits on a stool, nursing a cup of coffee, looking down like a scolded child, and Ashley sits beside him, smug and grinning from ear to ear.

"Aha! I knew it!" she exclaims loudly as Chris heads over to the counter to make some tea.

"Knew what?" he asks tentatively, trying to estimate how much she knows.

"That you two are fucking."

"Is this how you usually start your mornings? By meddling into other people’s personal life?" says Chris, internally cringing, and flops down beside Will and turns to him, "Good morning." Then he pointedly glares at Ashley and adds, "That's how you greet people in the morning."

She huffs and, instead of saying something, takes a sip of her coffee.

He studies her, having expected a bit more than that, a lengthy listing of pros and cons, a lecture on how to be careful, but nothing comes.

Will bumps his shoulder against Chris' and says softly, his eyes unusually empty, "I've got to go, actually. See ya. Bye, Ash," and with that he just walks out.

Chris has the urge to make him stay, do something to stop him but he doesn’t know what to say. They don't do it, they don't hang out, and they can't exactly have sex with Ashley around. 

He sighs and focuses on her; he's been a negligent friend lately, and soon he'll be even more busy, so he asks, "Wanna hang out today?"

*

The morning of Will’s birthday Chris fires a text with his wishes and gets a thank you with a smile. He's got a photoshoot in the afternoon but he is free in the evening and he hopes for some kind of sexy celebration but there aren't any more messages from Will.

He goes to sleep figuring that Will's just busy, perhaps celebrating with a few close friends.

But then he learns about the Jurassic Park party. Furious, betrayed, annoyed - there aren't enough words to describe what Chris’s feeling (nevermind that he’s not a fan of the scary stuff). He thought they were friends, and since Ashley knows, they can be less discreet now, they can hang out, no else will be suspicious. Besides, friends invite each other to big birthday parties even if they won’t be having sex afterwards. 

That’s how he ends up, banging his fist against Will's door way too early in the morning.

"I'm coming," he hears through the door and thinks that no one is going to be coming tonight because Will is an asshole -

"Oh hi, Chris, what are you doing here? "

Will is sleepy and adorable, hair dishevelled and creases from the pillow on his cheek. Chris wants to hug him because he missed him (after merely a week), but he squares his back and gets to the point.

"What were _you_ doing yesterday?" he says slowly, punctuating every word.

"Um - Chris, come on in, you don't want to be seen standing outside -" starts Will, and Chris looks behind himself, huffs, and, pushing Will out of the way, stomps inside the apartment.

He goes into the living room and folds his hands on his chest, glaring at a barefoot Will who pads after him, dumbfounded. He stops in front of Chris and stares expectantly.

"So, answer my question."

Will scratches at the back of his head and grimaces, "What question? Chris, I haven't even had coffee yet."

"What were you doing yesterday?"

Will furrows his eyebrows, "It was my birthday, I was celebrating. We weren't supposed to meet up, right?" he asks, clearly confused, "I would have remembered."

"No, we weren't."

"Okay, then why are you mad?”

Phrased like this, Chris doesn’t really know anymore. He’s confused, his head is a mess and he’s got to be thinking about books and plots, he’s got to be more focused but he can’t when everything in his mind revolves around Will. 

He uses the only way known to him to clear his head. He surges forward, presses his mouth to Will’s and immediately licks against Will’s lips, snaking inside. 

Will lifts him up, Chris’ ankles around his calves, and leans him on the back of the couch. They kiss fervently, Chris’ hands roaming over Will’s naked torso and back, and he wants him closer, inside...

Will’s hands slide up underneath his shirt, holding onto his bare waist, clutching and grounding, and Chris pants because he can’t get enough of him as he threads his hands through Will’s short hair, guiding his lips to the sweet spot behind his ear.

“I think this couch has seen the most action in the last couple of months,” murmurs Will, just before latching onto his neck.

His hands squeeze Chris’ waist once again, before moving up, bundling the shirt before taking it off completely. 

Chris stares at him darkly, a moment of silent contemplation, before he slides his hands across Will’s chest, stomach, down his navel, and after untangling his legs from Will, he tugs him by the band of his pajama pants and moves off the couch, slowly backing towards bedroom, not taking his eyes off Will’s for a second.

The brown eyes staring back at him are not as strange now. He can read some of their flickers, and then his eyes dart over Will’s face, and he realizes he also knows some of its expressions. As he falls on the bed, dragging Will with him, the familiarity of hands, moves, kisses, caresses pulses through him, and it finally dawns on him that now he has something he’s always wanted. 

And right now it seems that he can have everything.

*

A faint sound of children’s laughter sounds from the neighboring apartment, and somewhere a hammer is driving in nails, and there are dogs barking outside.

They are sprawled on bed, spent and smiling, coming off their high and slowly slipping back into the reality around them. 

It’s like everything’s brighter now, and Chris doesn’t feel this consummate need to be close anymore because he’s already as close as he can get. A solution forms in his head. It’s bold, one of the boldest decisions he’s ever made, and he isn’t sure that Will would agree. 

But it’s the only way out of the giant mess that his emotions have been for the past couple of weeks, and he desperately doesn’t want to lose Will, so he has to suggest it, even though his rational part is waking up from the orgasm-induced slumber and is already attempting to talk him out of it.

“Do you wanna try doing this more seriously?” blurts out Chris before he can change his mind.

Will rolls over and rises up on his elbows, frowning, “Do _what_ seriously?”

Chris flushes and he’s back to feeling young, as inexperienced at the relationship stuff as he actually is. The tension seeps back in, and Chris’s resolve is slowly waning. But he braces himself, going through with it, and he answers, lifting his eyes to stare straight at Will, honest and ready for anything, “Dating.”

Will doesn’t speak right away. He studies Chris, who doesn’t look away. His face is unreadable, and Chris can only hope that with time, if he gets a chance at that, he will know what Will is thinking in moments like this. The silence isn’t really that long but it feels like an eternity.

Finally, Will barely nods. Then he nods again, and again, lips stretching in a big smile. He leans down and softly presses his lips to Chris’.

“I’d like to.”

*

As they are eating mac and cheese, spending their first date on the living room floor, Will grins, “You know, I didn’t plan this.”

Chris huffs, “Obviously. I would have expected something more inventive.”

Will keeps grinning at him, and Chris says, feigning irritation but actually enjoying the attention, “What?”

He just leans in and kisses Chris deeply. “Nothing. I’ve just really never imagined it ending this way, but I think I really wanted to, for some time.”

Chris chuckles, “Me, too,” and slots their mouths together.


End file.
